Whispers In The Dark
by BloomAndFireforever
Summary: A series of one-shots based around my ROTG fanfic "Ghost". Centres on the King of Nightmares and Kiera Saunders - starting the night she lost her sister. Eventual Pitch/OC. R
1. Time of Dying

**Time of Dying**

_**Kiera's POV**_

"Look, I'm sorry Mum and Dad couldn't make it to the Christmas concert. They had to see Granddad. Anyway, I showed up," Molly explained, "Kiera, Granddad's getting old. He can't help it, just like he can't help forgetting. You understand, as people get old, they sometime forget things. Right?"

I nodded, aware of what she was saying.

"Molly, will that ever happen to us one day?"

"Possibly, but even if we do, that's years away." She answered and gave me a smile. "Hey, we're almost home. Mum and Dad won't want to see us sad."

"But we are," I protested, at the same time hearing Molly release a sigh.

"I know, Kiera, I know."

Molly drove off the motorway and we came to the junction, close to Burgess. I tightened my seatbelt and rested my head against the window, watching the houses flash by in a blur while passing them. Grinning at Molly, toes twitching in my winter boots, I knew she'd adored the concert, especially when I'd sung my solo and caught a glimpse of her smile – the way she'd blinked away her tears, like the other parent's who'd sat amongst her in the school hall. Mum and Dad would've loved it.

I lent back in my seat, smiling at the recent memory. Straight away the car jerked, ice scraping the wheels. I jolted forward, the seatbelt keeping me inches from the windscreen and my heart thudded in violent beats.

_Calm down__**, **_everything's fine, I told myself.

My eyes darted to Molly; her hands were white and tightened on the wheel while her breaths were short and shallow. Her muscles remained stiff as she shifted in her seat.

The car skidded again. I felt my heart pounding, pounding, pounding and my eyes fixed on the road.

"MOLLY!"

My voice caught in a sudden gasp. The whole thing happened too fast. Molly slammed her foot, down on the brakes, but the car kept skidding. We turned, tumbled, my heart thudding and my eyes wide; the world a blur around me. We hit a tree, yards from the pond. Molly's head slammed against the window. _CRACK_. My breathing stayed rapid, heavy and my stomach rose. Was that glass – or her head?

When I was sure the car wouldn't move, certain it was fixed in the blanket of snow, I shrieked. At the same time, I faced Molly. Her head was limp against the window and blood cascaded down her face, dripping onto her hoodie.

"Molly! Molly wake up! Molly, please! MOLLY!"

I kept screaming. My entire body shook and tears spilled from my eyes. On instinct, I reached for Molly's phone, dialling 911 like Mum had told me to do if something like this ever happened. Someone answered. At that moment, I sobbed down the phone.

"Help me, please! My car's crashed. My older sister, Molly, was driving – she's seventeen and she's hit her head!"

"_Alright, just stay calm. Tell me your name and how old you are. Do you know your location?"_

"K-Kiera. I'm n-nine."

"_Can you tell me if Molly's moving or breathing?"_

I began to shake her, doing exactly as the woman told me.

_Just wake up, _I pleaded_, Open your eyes. Look at me, please._

More and more tears streamed down my face, as I continued to shake her gently.

"She's not moving…and…I don't t-think she's…"

My breath hitched, I chocked, knowing the answer without the question.

"_They'll be an ambulance on the way, Kiera. Try to stay calm._"

"Okay," I sobbed, despite constantly shaking.

Moving my head and wincing, I looked at Molly again, staring at her in disbelief. Her once bright and comforting smile was no longer there. I believed she was somewhere in Heaven, as I looked now at only an emotionless face, limp and still, against smashed glass. I wanted to remember her better, like the time she smiled when I sang only hours ago, and when she'd huff and chase me for throwing snowballs at her.

For a second I looked away from her body. All of a sudden I leapt back. My heart pounded in my ears, the sound numbing me. I froze when a pair of golden orbs looked into my eyes. The orbs did nothing; just stared. Reaching towards them, my fingers inches from the windscreen, I grew aware it was a man. He had grey skin, along with black spikey hair and he was dressed in black. He stepped closer and I cowered back. Something of understanding flickered in his eyes – hurt, pain, irritation – I wasn't sure.

"Don't be afraid. They'll get you out of here."

His calm voice held me still, somehow reassuring me. Before I had a chance to respond, a blanket of black sand covered me.

"Did you do that?"

He nodded. A moment later, his golden eyes darted to Molly's body.

"She won't forget you, Kiera."

Then I froze, unable to hide the quiver in my voice. "You know my name. Who are you?"

"Pitch Black. But you'd remember me as the Boogeyman."

I swallowed hard, tightening the blanket around my body.

"When's the ambulance coming?"

Pitch glanced away before turning back to me. "Soon, I'm sure."

"They said to stay calm, but I can't. I just can't!"

Tears cascaded down my face and I wiped them on the blanket. Pitch came near the window. I placed my hand against the glass. To my surprise he did the same. His eyes fixed on me, cold and still.

"They're coming, Kiera."

He inhaled the instant I shuddered and I moved my hand away. For a second, I shut my eyes. The moment I opened them, Pitch was gone.

Minutes later, I noticed the wailing of sirens and the flashing of lights advance this way. Letting go of Molly's cold stiff hand, I caught a glimpse of the ambulance and the fire engine, when both stopped close to where we were trapped. The ambulance people dashed over first, placing an oxygen mask on my face and attempting to keep me calm as they waited for the firemen.

I cried and cried, when I said Molly had died and kept my eyes on the fire crew, as they cut through the dented car, getting me out before her. The ambulance people wrapped me in blankets, laid me on one of those wheeled beds and checked me over for injuries.

Molly was lowered onto another bed, but they placed a blanket over her body. I couldn't even see her face.

**A/N:**** This first one's a one-shot that takes place when my OC Molly dies. Hoping to link into a series of drabble fics, centring on **_**Ghost**_**. I'll try to update and I hope it was okay. Please feedback.**


	2. Face Down

**Face Down**

_**Kiera Saunders, age 16**_

She sprawled across the sofa, reading a magazine. It didn't take her long to read it and the moment she finished, she threw it on the floor and sighed. There'd be another few hours before her mother returned from work and her sister…well she wasn't around at the moment.

Kiera couldn't help but recall the growing reality, making her more aware each day. She was human. Molly wasn't. Ever since Molly became a Guardian, Kiera had always known her sister would never change…because it was something she'd always live with.

She sat up the instant her phone vibrated. Kiera grabbed it and read the message: _Hey, wondered if you wanted to spend the evening with me: have dinner and maybe watch a movie (you pick). Would really love to see you._

Her lips curled into a smile as she began replying: _Sounds great. Can I meet you at six?_

He replied: _Sure XX_

She lent against the back of the sofa, contemplating what to wear. It had been sometime now since she'd began dating Rick.

About two hours passed, before Kiera got herself ready. She washed her hair and dried it, then began to rummage through her wardrobe, reaching for a jumper and slipping on her nicest jeans. She placed a bracelet on her wrist, changed her earrings and applied her make-up carefully.

After checking she had everything she needed, Kiera grabbed her boots and pulled on her coat on, fastening the belt around her waist. She couldn't help but smile as she thought of Rick arranging dinner.

**XXXX**

It took her a few minutes before arriving at Rick's flat. She sighed and a moment later, rang the doorbell. Rick swung the door open, glaring at Kiera.

"I thought you were gonna wear that other top."

Kiera paled, taken aback. "It isn't clean."

"Oh." He chuckled and remained staring at the bewildered look in Kiera's eyes. "So are you gonna make me stand here all night?"

"No." She paused. "I wasn't planning to."

Rick huffed, leading her inside the flat. He watched her cautiously, when she removed her coat and left her bag in the hallway. Seconds later, she joined him in the kitchen. They didn't even speak through dinner. The only thing Rick did was continue to watch her, as if a predator observed its prey.

**XXXX**

Kiera lent against his body, the fabric of his shirt smooth against her back. She felt his arms enclose her, pulling her near. All of a sudden, she winced at the feel of his hand tugging her hair. Before she had a chance to respond, Rick's fingers trailed her neckline, his firm hand securing her by the shoulder.

"You're gorgeous, Kiera." His voice was no more than a cold chill against her ear and it made her quiver.

Without warning Rick pressed his lips against her, entwining Kiera in his arms. To her surprise, it wasn't loving or slow. He was aggressive – demanding more and more each moment. Kiera shifted back, attempting to break the connection. She felt his hand trail her body and her stomach flipped when it reached her thigh. She brought herself to shove him away.

"What the hell's wrong with you?!" Rick spat, "I thought you wanted this!"

Kiera swallowed, bringing herself to meet his eyes. "So did I. But I'm clearly wrong!"

"We've been dating _three months_ and I can't believe you're still not ready. Come on, Kiera, think how I feel!"

Her fists clenched. She glared at Rick, speaking through gritted teeth.

"You damn right know I'm don't ready, and you're not worth it if you're always acting like this. And _don't _you fucking dare try to blame me!" She stormed towards the door, hauling up her coat and bag. "I'm not gonna let you push me around!"

The door slammed on its hinges.

**XXXX**

It had been dark for a while. Kiera raced through the streets, keeping her head low and wiping the tears that filled her eyes. She released a sigh, broken, but at the same time pleased it was over. Scrolling through the phone and deleting his number, Kiera began to feel a sense of freedom. It made her think about Molly; the way she could fly away so easily.

Suddenly, a hand grasped her shoulder.

"You should know better than to walk away from me."

Rick's voice made her shudder. Her heart thudded heavily, drowning out the surrounding noise. She tried to move, but he clasped her tighter.

"What's the matter, Kiera? Too scared to be near me?"

She bit her lip the moment he pinched her. Rick held her by the waist; his fingers like daggers against her skin.

"G-Get off me." She raised her heel and it slammed against his foot. Kiera attempted to run, yet he grasped her arm and pulled her back. Rick wasted no time in directing Kiera into the park, backing her against a tree and securing her wrists tight. She froze, as if paralysed, the moment he kissed her. Kiera bit his lip, causing him to break the connection. Without hesitating, she began screaming.

"Help! Someone help me! Please! Help!"

**XXXX**

From somewhere in the park, Pitch Black sensed that element of terror. The vibe of a violent heartbeat felt exhilarating, giving him the strength he wanted. Only now, it felt different. Far too different to be a frightened child. He felt the victim's fear; growing aware it was somehow…_rational_. A girl's shriek erupted through the night, arising Pitch's curiosity. He sank into the shadows, sensing her pounding heart the closer he became.

When he saw her eyes, he felt as if the night had slowed, leaving him motionless and numb. Kiera struggled and her body buckled against her attacker. Pitch slammed his fist against Rick's jaw. He would _never_ do this to a child, but Rick wasn't a child. He was a grown man and nothing more than a monster at best.

Rick paled, stumbling back, searching for the hidden force that left a trail of blood at the edge of his lip. Kiera stayed against the tree, bringing herself to face those familiar golden eyes after she broke her gaze from Rick; his body sprawled on the ground. She faced Pitch and kept her eyes on him. It had been years since she'd seen him.

"Kiera?" His voice was calm and strangely…caring.

She covered her mouth, tears cascading down her face. Pitch touched her hand but she shifted away.

"I won't let him to that again, Kiera."

Kiera remained crying. A moment later she began speaking.

"I tried…he was too strong…I c-couldn't get away." She swallowed hard. "Why can I still see you?"

Pitch half smiled. "Because of your sister, perhaps."

He paused and held his hand out. Kiera took it and met his eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, fumbling for her phone. "I need to ring my mum. I've gotta tell her what happened."

Kiera chocked before she could finish. She lent against the tree, holding the phone against her ear. When her mother answered, she began explaining.

"Mum, I need to talk to you. It's about Rick."

**A/N: ****I know this didn't seem like the sort of thing Pitch would do but I wanted to convey the irony of the monster in this one shot. Hope you liked it. Please post comments. **


	3. A Night On The Road

**A Night On The Road**

_**Kiera's POV, age 17**_

Brian Bennett stuck his head out the window.

"Alright I've got the car loaded. You guy's ready yet?"

"Yep," I said.

"All set," Jamie called, "What about you, Claire?"

Claire (aka Cupcake) emerged from her porch, suitcase in hand and locked her door. She adjusted her scarf, then paced towards us. Along with Jamie and Claire, I jolted suddenly. We faced Jamie's cousin, keeping our eyes on him when he honked the horn.

"Road trip!"

"Keep it down, Brian." Jamie rolled his eyes and I watched him count along his fingers, making sure we had everything packed. "Okay, I think we're good to go."

We helped Claire put her stuff in the boot then climbed in the car, Jamie in the front beside Brian. Moments after we drove away, the four of us laughing and cheering.

**XXXX**

I don't think I've had this much fun for a long time. Molly would be pleased to know I was okay. She'd miss this as well. When we were younger, Mum and Dad always took us to this camp sight. There'd be so many things there and I'd discovered a huge swing in the woodland. The first thing I did then was show Molly. She'd smiled and gave in when I'd begged her to push me. Like any child, I told her to push me higher. Then I'd fallen. It had only been a graze, but the way Molly had looked at me, made me understand she'd dreaded the worst.

Jamie pulled me from the memory when he shook a packet of Oreos in front of my face.

"Want one?"

"Thanks." I took an Oreo, lent back in my seat and began nibbling.

Without warning, Brian stopped the car. All of us glanced forward, understanding why.

"Great." Brian huffed. "How long are we gonna be stuck here?"

"Seems like it could be a while," Claire observed.

"Damn," I muttered, "Well I hope it's not too long."

It took about fifteen minutes until we began moving. Jamie changed the radio several times. For a second, my attention drew towards a song, which made me think about…well it didn't matter anymore.

Out of the blue, Claire screamed.

"Watch out!"

Brian swerved and swore violently under his breath. The sound of my racing heart pounded as we came inches from hitting ice.

"Is everyone okay?" Jamie asked.

"We're still alive if that's what you mean." Brian's grip remained on the wheel, his knuckles white, his breathing heavy. All of a sudden we struck the curb. The seatbelt caught me as I lunged forward, clinging onto Claire as the car slanted downwards.

"The hell?!" she yelled.

"Bloody winter," Brian responded.

Jamie lent back, his gaze shifting to me. I knew we were thinking the same thing. The one thing neither of us wanted to blame – Jack Frost.

Brian slammed his foot on the brakes, over and over.

"Careful, you'll burn out the engine," Jamie warned.

"We have to get out somehow," his cousin retorted.

"Maybe I can go find help," I suggested.

Jamie paled and faced the window. "Maybe we should all stay together. It's dark out."

"Yeah, it's pitch black out there."

I couldn't stop myself bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. It took me by surprise when Jamie and Claire let out a chuckle. Brian stared with bewildered eyes.

"I don't get it. What's so funny?"

"Private joke. You wouldn't get it," Jamie laughed.

Brian slumped against the back of his seat.

"Well –" he began – "we've gotta pass the time, somehow."

"I've got it! What about scary stories?"

"We're not too old for that, are we?" I asked.

Jamie shook his head. "Anyway it might be fun, Kiera."

I nodded, agreeing with the idea. "Yeah, you might be right."

**XXXX**

Brian let us share the brandy, since the petrol needed saving. The alcohol felt warm against my chest and wasn't too bad, once I'd adapted to the taste. We took it in turns to scare the hell out of each other. Brian and Claire were a tad cliché, but when Jamie and I came up with a tale, both Claire and Brian remained motionless with their eyes wide and jaws open.

Fidgeting constantly in my seat, I finally unclipped my seatbelt. Sitting all night in a cold car would drive me crazy. It took me a second to tighten my coat and put my gloves on, until I climbed out the car. I released a long heavy breath, the cool air looking like thin cloud, and I stumbled against the side of the car. There was nothing but the silence around me. Moment later, a tall shadow advanced near. I giggled, waving my hand when I saw his eyes.

"Aww…Pitchhhh. You actuallyyyy came." I took a step forward, continuing to giggle. "It's good to see youuuu. I mean stilllll see you."

He stared at me, his glare sharp and calculating. Then he grasped my arm. I shook him off, recalling the way Rick had done the same.

"Staying here…all of ussss."

He came closer, placing his hand on my shoulder. "You're drunk."

"Not that bad," I mumbled.

Without thinking too much about it, I snuggled closer to Pitch. He rested his hands on my shoulders, at the same time tensing against my body. Realisation struck me.

"Sorry." My voice remained low. "But you feel so comfy…and that dress is soooo soft."

"It's a robe, Kiera." His voice stayed flat. "You know, Molly would be turning in her grave if she saw you like this."

I nodded but said, "Please don't tell her. I'm not the first. She won't be _that _surprised. She's done it as well."

I got the impression Pitch hadn't really dealt with teenagers. And he knew so much about kids, overall. My gaze fell on him. Just by looking at him, made me know he wasn't the monster everyone believed. Sometime later, he began speaking.

"I heard the stories."

"Oh." Blood rushed to my face. "M-My stories. We had to have a bit of fun."

"Finally, another person who knows how."

He still held me. Unaware of what he was reaching for, black sand dusted my face. A moment later, darkness consumed me.

**XXXX**

My eyes opened and I squinted at the light through the windows. Black sand fell on my lap and I rubbed my head, attempting to ease the throbbing. Minutes later, Jamie awoke.

"Kiera?"

"Yeah, I'm awake," I responded, my voice drowsy, "Oh God, my head hurts."

"As soon as Brian wakes up, we'll get him to drive us home," Jamie explained, "He's too heavy too move and I kept some coffee in a flask in case this happened."

My fingers remained holding the fragments of black sand, I'd found on my lap.

"Jamie, this is gonna sound mad…but…do nightmares come true?"

"Not usually. Why what was it?"

"I dreamed about this morning. About expecting a hangover."

Jamie looked at me as if we thought the same thing. "Do think it was…?"

I nodded. "I won't tell anyone else about this, I promise. But do you still believe in him – Pitch, I mean? Pitch Black as in the…oh you know."

"Yeah," Jamie admitted. "Secretly I still do. Why, what's wrong?"

"He was here."

**A/N: ****Writing this had me laughing most of the time. I always wondered how Pitch might feel, having to deal with someone drunk – at least he used his nightmares logically. Don't know when I can next update. Send feedback. **


	4. Changing Wings - Part I

**Changing Wings – Part I**

She awoke to a luminous beam, casting down beneath the trees. Her eyes grew accustomed to the light, to the woodland surrounding her. A gentle breeze swept through her hair and sent golden streaks drifting across her face. She sat for a moment, thinking, waiting, expecting something would change.

Then she rose, eyes flicking to every corner. A loud rustling occurred from behind and she was quick to turn, catching sight of something white. Keeping her eyes on her back gave her enough time to glance at the feathered wings stretching out before her. She flexed her muscles, her new wings curling and uncurling against the soft fabric of her burgundy dress. Her lips curled into a smile and she took off flying, gliding along the gentle wind. She let herself land on a branch. It was the moment she looked down, that she saw a quivering figure beneath her.

The Angel glided down. Closer glimpse revealed a child, eyes swollen with tears, rocking back and fourth, back and fourth, quivering from the cold. She kept her gaze on the boy, emerging into the moonlight and walked towards him with a gentle pace. He looked young, no older than eight.

"Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

He didn't respond. She stretched her arm out, lowering it near the child's shoulder and gasped at the moment it passed through. To begin with, she wasn't sure what happened. It seemed like nothing more than a mind game. But through each second she waited, the reality became clear. Her lips parted and she blinked her eyes, gradually beginning to feel alone.

She stepped away from the child, understanding she couldn't help him. A second later, she spread her wings and flew away.

_Cyra. _

She froze, barely keeping her wings flapping. Her eyes shifted to every corner, making an effort to discover where the voice came from. The light of the moon caused her to blink when it grew brighter.

"Did you just speak to me?"

_You're an angel and your name is Cyra. _

"You can talk!" she realised, flying over to the nearest tree and balancing on the closest branch.

_Yes. Now listen carefully, Cyra. This is what you need to do. Find the Guardians._

"Where am I meant to look?"

The beam darkened. Cyra huffed when a cloud passed over.

**A/N: ****I'll update as soon as I can. Big thanks to darthcat who sent me an idea (it's a good one). The next few bits, I'll split into parts. Let me know what you think so far. Reviews are welcome. **


	5. Changing Wings - Part II

**Changing Wings – Part II**

_**Cyra's POV**_

The woman remained with her back against the window; her head lowered in her lap and she clutched a photo. It seemed like hours since I'd begun to watch her. All that time, there'd been tears running down her face along with small movements from her lips, somehow as if she were praying. When she gazed at the window, I caught a glimpse of her eyes, red, encircled with dark shadows.

I brought myself to fly away, my wings spread behind me. Blinking repeatedly didn't help to clear the woman's bloodshot eyes from my mind. Then, I landed beside the lake, kicking a pile of snow with my heel. The moon's beam cast down on the snow and I stared upwards with pain-filled eyes.

"You could've been more helpful," I said, "It wouldn't have hurt to admit something useful. The least you could've done is tell me why I'm here."

Yet again he didn't reply…and he never did.

Despite being solo, the only thing I did was drift through the sky. The sense of freedom was the only thing keeping me sane. During the day, I'd remain still as people passed through me, not knowing I was there. It was over a year since I'd awoke in the woods. And that was plenty of time to accept what I was.

I released a breath of air, gliding further into the cloud. My instincts were alert when I dodged a plane, but either way I kept flying. It took minutes to reach England and I balanced myself atop a bridge, facing the white clock, shining in the mist. Clouds consumed the sky and there was no trace of the moon. I shivered, despite being unable to feel the cold and bit my lip while scanning my surroundings. Moments later, I reminded myself I'd be fine. Even if there were others like me, would they know I exist?

A black horse cantered below. Closer glimpses showed it was different and wisps of sand trailed from its body. It stopped and my eyes stayed with it as it approached its master – a man, cloaked in black, able to blend in with darkness itself. I waited. They began to walk away. My spine crawled the moment I sensed the man wasn't human. If he was like me, maybe he could see me. If I had a heartbeat, it'd be pounding. A smile emerged on my lips and without hesitating, I chose to follow.

I discovered him standing inside a block of flats. He did nothing. Just stood, transfixed, watching from a bedroom corner. It intrigued me to know what fascinated him, so I advanced closer. Keeping my wings flapping, I peered through the window. A little boy clutched the covers against him, and they were pulled to his neck. They boy couldn't have been much older than six and a blue dream catcher hung on his bedpost. My gaze shifted to the man, beside me, who watched the child and I felt my lips curling upwards. Seconds later I stepped through the window.

"You shouldn't stand over vulnerable children and watch them sleep."

He whirled round and faced me, letting out a chuckle. "Oh, and why shouldn't I?"

I remained smug, my arms folded. "Because that's what a paedophile does."

My lips curled higher and he stared icily, his golden eyes boring into mine. At the same time, he shifted uncomfortably, raised his posture and stepped closer till I was against the wall; his face inches from mine.

"You've experienced fear and –" he breathed deep –"you're afraid now. But don't be. I'm not gonna hurt you, Cyra."

My head shot up when he said my name. "You know about me?"

He nodded silently.

"How?" I felt myself close to shouting.

"The Moon." His response was quiet when he faced the sky and I looked up in realisation. "He's the reason I know who you are."

"Oh." I blinked. Twice.

"When you became…you…he asked me to find you."

"So why didn't you?"

"You have a bad habit of flying away too often." He chuckled. "But you always were a loose one."

I paled, shifting my gaze to the child and then raised my eyebrows. "Do you do this a lot?"

"Sometimes." His voice stayed flat. "You probably wouldn't believe me, but fear…it can help you."

It made me sceptical and I met his eyes and folded my arms. "I never thought that might be possible."

"A lot of things are."

"So, fear helps you, as in _protect_ you?" I took a guess, feeling proud when he nodded. "I sort of see what you mean, I guess." It took a second before I knew what to say. "And it's like, earlier, I thought this plane would hit me and the first thing I knew was to get out of the way. So I kinda get it. I mean it was weird at first, but I understand what you're saying. And I believe that's a good thing." I couldn't help the words escaping, despite the growing stare he gave me. I released a breath and lent back. "Sorry, it's just it actually feels great to talk to someone who can see me."

"You've longed for this," he observed.

I nodded, a thought occurring to me. "Yeah. You know, maybe I could stay with you."

He froze, raising his hand and adjusting his collar. "You might not want to."

"What makes you say that?" I smirked, arms folded.

"It's cold and dark."

"Those don't bother me, plus I've been alone too long."

He didn't respond. Instead he remained staring. I met his eyes and it was long enough to know what kept me transfixed.

"Your name's Pitch, right?"

"Yes."

"It rang a bell, that's all."

Pitch laughed, then added, "You don't have to be alone, Cyra. Neither do I."

A flicker of hope passed in my eyes. "Thank you."

I couldn't help but smile. He held my hand and darkness swept over.

A/N: I'll try to update. Please review


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